


마지막 (The Last)

by Vai_should_be_quiet



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Hanahaki AU, Heavy Angst, I was very sad when I wrote this, M/M, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, TW: Blood, Unrequited Love, also it's somewhat badly written so be careful about that too lmao, huuuuge Trigger Warning, it can be triggering for so many reasons, just a bit of fluff, mostly angst though, seriously I don't write fics this fcked up when everything's okay, seriously be careful with this, tw: death discussions and actual death, tw: jjong isn't a character in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 12:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14737055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vai_should_be_quiet/pseuds/Vai_should_be_quiet
Summary: Some things just can't be helped - it has become Taemin's mantra.Taemin can't help loving Jongin, just like Jongin can't help not loving him back.





	마지막 (The Last)

Two months and three weeks ago Taemin had started coughing up flower petals and blood. He’d put off making the decision for as long as he could, but now he was running out of time.

He’d managed to keep the secret for about a month before Kibum had forced it out of him. He’d caught on early on, but Taemin had insisted it was nothing. Because he _knew_ that Kibum would try to make him get the surgery, which was exactly what happened. Taemin had strictly forbidden Kibum from telling anyone else, none of the hyungs could know, because they would all say the same thing.

They didn’t understand and Taemin couldn’t bother to try and explain. It would be no use.

He was still in denial, trying to keep his mind off of the bigger issue at all times. It did get a bit difficult to think when you had roots and thorns pressing down on your lungs. The symptoms were sometimes more harmless, just having his mouth fill with flower petals which he’d have to spit out. The less harmful part of the disease, and the more poetic one. But then there were the roots circling his lungs that made it impossible to breathe from time to time. Or the thorns that made him spit out blood – the less pretty side of it.

It usually got worse upon seeing the one responsible for him becoming ill, although Taemin didn’t like to play the blame game. Some things just couldn’t be helped.

Whenever Kibum would find him in the bathroom spitting out blood, coughing and choking on the flower petals, the older would start trash talking the poor boy who’d truly done nothing wrong. His only sin was not loving Taemin back, and was that really a sin at all?

Taemin knew that Kibum was just worried, but maybe he defended Jongin a bit too much.

_“Some things just can’t be helped,”_ it had become his mantra.

He couldn’t help loving Jongin just like Jongin couldn’t help not loving Taemin.

And he couldn’t help loving Sehun.

It was no one’s fault and in all honesty Taemin just wanted the two to be happy. He didn’t want to hate either of them.

But sometimes... Sometimes it got too much. Sometimes, Taemin would see them holding hands, leaning against each other and laughing together and it felt like an insult. And he did his very best to stop it, _“It’s not their fault,”_ he kept repeating to himself, but soon enough all breath would leave his lungs as the roots dug into them. Then followed the scratching at the back of his neck, the taste of blood on his tongue and the flower petals filling his mouth.

At least it was an excuse to run off and not look at them anymore.

In the beginning it was all fairly easy to handle. The roots were young and green, without much strength to truly crush Taemin’s lungs. As they grew, he realized that the disease wasn’t only a reflection of his unrequited love. It was also a reflection of his jealousy.

In the beginning, he would look to Sehun and think about how lucky and _perfect_ he was. Taemin was only able to see the best in him, admiring him genuinely from afar.

Then he started to envy him, wanting to take his place, to have what he did, thinking he deserved it just as much as Sehun did. Maybe even more.

One night he’d stayed awake a long time, thinking about what it would be like to be in Sehun’s place. How much happier he would be. How little problems he would have to deal with if he just had Jongin’s love.

With those thoughts he’d fallen asleep, but not for long. He’d woken up feeling sick and breathless. He’d run to the bathroom, horrified at the sight of blood in the toilet, along with the flower petals helplessly floating around, some of them sinking to the bottom. The sight itself made him sick again.

That was the night when his roommate found out also. Because after throwing up, standing and trying to get some water, Taemin lost consciousness. Wonshik found him crying, curled up on the ground.

The roots had grown, and so had his jealousy. At some point he’d stopped looking to Sehun with admiration. In its place settled hate, which terrified Taemin. He had never been a hateful person and to see himself being so resentful of someone who didn’t even deserve it in the first place was beyond terrifying. It brought out the worst in him, a side of himself that Taemin hadn’t even known existed.

He’d tried so hard to focus on everything good about Sehun, all the reasons he’d admired him in the past. But it was so easy hating him, it was much easier to see his flaws than his virtues.

And so Taemin had started thinking – Sehun wasn’t even _that_ good for Jongin. He was too cold and bitchy, Jongin didn’t want someone like that. Jongin deserved all the warmest love in the world, which was something Sehun simply couldn’t provide. He was far too closed up for that (Taemin hated being proved wrong, witnessing the fact that Jongin had his way with the younger, going past his walls and helping him open up).

But also, Sehun wasn’t even that attractive. Nor was he that good of a dancer. He was cynical and arrogant and just so rude.

Deep down he knew it wasn’t true. Taemin knew Sehun to be a bright and gentle soul who only needed someone patient and just as gentle by his side. That someone was Jongin. The two were perfect for each other and Taemin knew it, he’d seen it long ago, back when he still wasn’t a jealous monster.

It was so much easier to hate than to love.

Then again, it was love that helped Taemin get over his jealousy. It was a healing experience whenever he would happen to be left alone with Jongin. He was reminded of everything wonderful about being in love with such an amazing person. Briefly, for as long as he was with Jongin, Taemin could breathe. He wasn’t sure if he was just imagining, but it seemed that the roots would loosen in those moments.

It was gone soon, always interrupted, but Taemin was grateful. He was grateful for every conversation they had, for every time they danced together or just saw each other on the halls – if he happened to be without Sehun.

Taemin wanted more than anything to get rid of jealousy. If he could have one wish granted, he wouldn’t want to break Jongin and Sehun up or anything like that. He’d simply want to stop being jealous.

And there was a way to achieve that, only the solution wasn’t magical. It was a double-edged sword. With the surgery, he’d get rid of the deadly roots, the jealousy but also the love. Which was logical – kill the love and you have nothing to be jealous about anymore.

But Taemin wasn’t sure he wanted that. To live the rest of his life numb? It was tempting but to him it felt wrong. He loved love and he loved being in love. It made him feel alive.

Kibum and Wonshik wanted him to get the surgery. Rid of the pain, rid of the risk, rid of the feelings.

But they didn’t understand and they never would.

Whatever the case, he needed to make the decision quickly. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he resumed the choreography. It was a lie that he thought best when dancing, usually he just tuned everything out, his own thoughts included. This was how he deceived himself: he told himself he’d dance to clear his head and think things through, but instead only postponed the decision since no thinking was being done while dancing.

He got interrupted twice.

The first time when Jongin, of all people, came in. They said their ‘hello’s, Taemin promising that he’d finish soon. The second time was when he got sick. Flower petals tickling the back of his neck, he figured it wasn’t too bad. There was no blood to be felt and he could still breathe. However he still had to cough them up, which he couldn’t do in front of Jongin.

He wanted to play it cool, he really did, but the flower petals kept emerging and soon Taemin couldn’t hold it in any longer; he ran to the bathroom. Not suspicious or anything, notat all.

Taemin hoped that Jongin didn’t follow, but the younger was worried. There were footsteps behind him and, of course, the question of,

“What the hell?”

Taemin sighed, coughed up last of the flower petals, flushed the toilet and stood unsteadily. He chewed on his lip and tried to take deep breaths because he really, _really_ didn’t want to cry right now. However the roots had started to tighten around his lungs and taking deep breaths became a difficult task. Giving up on that, he just turned around. He hadn’t really had the time to close the door since he’d immediately collapsed and started throwing up flowers.

“I can explain,” he said, trying to throw on a smile. A little difficult as he still couldn’t breathe properly.

Jongin didn’t seem disgusted or weirded out. He was worried, genuinely and deeply, frowning at his hyung.

“Are you okay? I just... What is this even?” He stepped forward and took Taemin by the arm, seeing the older sway. “Forget that now, you’ll tell me later.”

Taemin was startled when the ground dropped from under him and he gripped onto anything he could get a hold on, which turned out to be Jongin’s sleeve. Taemin couldn’t even wrap his mind around how easy it was for Jongin to carry him.

Of course he shouldn’t have been so amazed. He had lost appetite and therefore weight. Above all he was exhausted and weak – doing anything with the roots growing inside of him was horribly painful. At this point they’d grown very thick and strong, making it possible for him to _feel_ them shift around his ribs every time he moved. A disgusting and unsettling feeling, yet he had gotten used to it.

The younger placed him down against a wall in the practice room.

“Do you need anything?” He asked gently.

Taemin tried to speak but ended up just motioning towards the water bottle. Jongin handed it to him and he downed it in a matter of seconds.

The empty bottle then slipped out of his hand. Elbows rested on his knees, Taemin buried his face in his hands, tugging on his own hair in utter distress. Each sob felt like it was ripping his lungs, but he couldn’t stop crying.

“It’s okay,” he heard Jongin say, his voice so gentle it made Taemin shiver. The younger embraced him, resting his chin on top of Taemin’s head. Jongin took Taemin’s wrist and tugged gently to stop the older from pulling on his hair. He didn’t let go of Taemin’s hand.

If only he hadn’t been so perfect.

Had it not been for Jongin’s kindness and his pure soul, Taemin might have had a chance to make himself hate Jongin. This way, it was all the more painful.

_Some things jus can’t be helped._

You can’t help loving someone.

He forced it all down until he was no longer crying. Taemin hated crying, even if he was by himself, let alone in front of someone. Let alone in front of Jongin.

“It’s that... Unrequited love disease, isn’t it?” He asked, quite obliviously so.

Taemin nodded.

“I’m sorry. Who could ever...? I mean...”

It took all of Taemin’s self control not to huff at that. He just shook his head instead, gripping Jongin’s sleeve.

“Oh—yeah, okay. I suppose you wouldn’t want to... Sorry for asking.” To make matters worse, Jongin started playing with Taemin’s hair. Granted, it was supposed to be a soothing action, but it only brought more pain to Taemin’s heart.

“Is it curable?” The younger asked after a while longer.

“In a way,” Taemin muttered. “Y’know if your feelings are returned. Or...” He sighed. “Or a surgery. It takes away the feelings as well. And sometimes the ability to love too.”

Jongin pressed his lips together and nodded. “Well... How do I say this. Everything’s better than you d—“ He cut himself off and looked down.

Taemin shifted in Jongin’s embrace, suddenly feeling restless. He needed to get away, it was too painful being held by Jongin. “Yeah, well, I’ve been trying to figure it out for a while now, but...”

He wiped his eyes and fixed his hair, then threw a glance at Jongin. And Taemin’s gaze immediately softened. “I can’t,” he whispered. It was the first time he’d admitted it to himself. He couldn’t let go. He’d rather die than live numb or without Jongin.

“I don’t want to let go.” That was as much as he could say without tears welling up in his eyes again. He looked down, pushing his hands between his thighs.

A silence occurred. Jongin and Taemin both needed the time to let it sink in; the fact that Taemin would die.

Taemin thought this would create some sort of backlash. Maybe, just maybe, he hoped that Jongin would argue and try to convince him not to give up. But that didn’t happen.

Jongin sighed and squeezed Taemin’s hand. He smiled, even if it was a bit forced.

“I’ve been working on something new,” Jongin said as if they hadn’t just discussed Taemin’s death. “I want to make it a duet. Would you do it with me?”

“Why don’t you ask Sehun?” Taemin winced at his own words. He hated being petty and the cocky response he’d just given was both petty and laced with jealousy. He didn’t look at Jongin, expecting him to get angry.

But he didn’t. He laughed. “I want to do this with you! I can’t do _everything_ with my boyfriend, can I? Besides, I think you’d get the emotion of it much better.”

Taemin tried to focus on the fact that Jongin wanted to dance with him, that there was a choreography he’d made and wanted to do with Taemin only.

So he nodded and smiled. “Alright, then... Show me what you’ve got.”

Watching Jongin dance made his heart flutter every time, and for that little while it was as if the roots disappeared.

Taemin hardly listened to his explanations, rather focusing on his movements, trying to memorize them but also admiring how swift and perfect they were in Jongin’s execution.

“Want to try it together?” Jongin asked, which was the first thing he’d said that Taemin actually registrated.

He wasn’t too sure about the idea at the moment, because of the fact that he could feel the roots around his lungs every time he took a breath, but did he voice his doubts? Of course not. He did the very responsible thing and agreed immediately.

However Jongin may have noticed Taemin’s pained expression as he stood up, because he added, “Tell me if you’re feeling unwell.”

Taemin nodded stiffly and positioned himself beside Jongin. Hoping to skip the topic of his wellbeing, Taemin copied the move from the beginning which he remembered. “It goes like this?”

Thankfully, it worked and Jongin got into teaching him the choreography instead of further discussions.

It hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, but on the other side of that pain was extreme satisfaction. In Taemin’s eyes, the two of them were a perfect combination. Their moves complimented each other, they moved in perfect harmony and just understood each other. Even when they were improvising on the spot, they were still in sync, still perfect.

Although Taemin wished he was more of a perfect match in Jongin’s love life rather than dancing.

He just settled for the latter.

Regardless of his pettiness and occasional jealousy, Taemin left the studio smiling, his heart full. Maybe Jongin was right not to overreact. He shouldn’t worry because just as some things cant be helped, some things are inevitable.

Perhaps Taemin had found his new mantra.

On his way home, he received an unexpected call from Kibum. He sounded distressed.

_“Where’s Wonshik?”_

“I think... At Hakyeon and Jaehwan’s? Why?”

_“You’re alone?”_

“I’m not home yet. Key, what’s going on?”

_“I’ll see you there,”_ Kibum said gloomily and hung up.

Taemin had no idea what to think about this. An uncomfortable tension settled into him, not knowing what to expect from Kibum. He sounded urgent and angry. This made Taemin a bit scared to go home. Not scared of Kibum, but of what he might say.

Kibum was in front of the door, scrolling on his phone. He didn’t greet Taemin verbally, just nodded and waited for him to unlock the door.

Once inside, the older sat on the couch, in the centre which made him look like he was about to hold a conference. He crossed his legs gracefully and looked up at Taemin with an intense, heavy gaze.

“What?” Taemin asked, attempting to sound casual. He placed his bag on the couch beside Kibum, if only to ruin the symmetry, and sat down on the carpet.

“You’re going to die because of a crush?” Kibum said sharply.

Taemin winced at the words. It was put so bluntly that it did sound bad, but Taemin knew the whole story. Kibum was wrong.

“It is not a crush,” Taemin said calmly. “It’s called the Disease of Unrequited Love, not the Disease of Unreturned Feelings or Crushes. Can you make the difference? I think I wouldn’t be choking on flowers if it was just a crush.”

Kibum was cracking his knuckles, looking even more pissed off because Taemin had a point. “Right. So it’s not a crush. It’s more. But whatever the fuck it is, it’s not worth it. I’ve told you a thousand times—”

“And I’ve told you a thousand times more!” Taemin snapped, “I can’t live like that, hyung. I don’t want to lose the ability to love. Or Jongin.”

“Yeah, you told me, but you never actually said you’d let yourself die until today! You’re being stupid!”

Taemin opened his mouth to answer, but then he realized something. He’d never told Kibum about his decision. In fact, the decision was made while he was with Jongin, Taemin told him, they danced and then he went home.

Taemin completely sank into himself, burying his face in his hands. “Jongin told you?”

Kibum stayed quiet for a while, drumming his fingers on the couch. He knew he might put Jongin in an odd situation by admitting to it, but at the same time he knew that Taemin needed to hear the truth.

“He was _out of his mind_. He called me, on the verge of tears, _begging_ me to talk you out of it.” Kibum slipped off the couch and sat opposite of Taemin on the floor. He took the younger’s hands in his own. “He thought you’d never listen to him. See, he doesn’t want you to die. So just go and get the fucking surgery.”

“That’s because he doesn’t know it’s him,” Taemin muttered. He shook his head and tugged his hand away to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Just do it. This is stupid, you’re being stupid. It’s not worth it, you’re much more important than—”

“Okay, hyung. It’s something you clearly don’t understand. I can’t—” He took a shaky breath. “I can’t live like that. Half dead. That’s what it means to me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t do it.”

He went quiet after that. He didn’t even have the strength to argue anymore. He fell forward and Kibum embraced him securely. In a matter of seconds they were both crying, no longer sure of who’s comforting whom. Taemin’s sobs were more strangled, as he was the one who found it more difficult to breathe.

By the time Wonshik got home the two had calmed down and stopped grossly crying, but they were still cuddling on the ground.

Wonshik wasn’t in on everything, but he knew enough to understand. He took it upon himself to help the two pick themselves up. He got them to sit on the couch, even if he did have to pick Taemin up, while Kibum had his shit together enough to get up by himself.

They binged random comedies while hugging on the couch, drinking unholy amounts of tea and eating many, many snacks.

And they didn’t talk about it again. Kibum had tried to be passive aggressive, but each day it was more obvious that Taemin wouldn’t let his mind be changed. He refused to talk and firmly stuck to his decision.

Taemin was fine not even thinking about it. He instead turned all his focus on the choreography he was doing with Jongin. Even though he was getting progressively worse, he didn’t give up. Even though Jongin could see him getting worse and always asked if he needed a break, told him that he doesn’t need to do it if it’s too much, Taemin didn’t give up. It was all he had and he wanted it to be the last thing he did.

They were supposed to perform together. It was supposed to be the last dance practice before the performance. Taemin suddenly collapsed, he didn’t even have the time to run. He coughed up flower petals and blood then and there, in front of the mirror and in front of Jongin. He hated it, he hated the disease, he hated his feelings and he hated himself.

Jongin dropped to his knees beside him and, being the good friend he is, helped hold Taemin up so that he wouldn’t pass out.

“You’re done,” Jongin announced.

It made Taemin’s heart stop beating. He shook his head and attempted to get up. “No, I can do it. I’m fine, I just—” Had it not been fro Jongin’s arm around his waist, Taemin would have fallen face first, thereby disproving everything he’d just said about being fine.

“No, _you are done._ I’m not going out there if you’re going to pass out on stage. It’s bad enough you don’t want to get the surgery, you don’t have to make it more difficult for yourself,” Jongin snapped.

This is what did it. Taemin gave up even trying to hold himself upright, dropping all of his weight on Jongin. Not that it was difficult to hold him – Taemin weighed next to nothing at this point.

“I’m sorry. I really wanted to do this,” he said weakly.

“You don’t have to do it for me,” Jongin said, it had to be the 100th time at this point.

“Not for you,” Taemin finally admitted, but he didn’t elaborate. He didn’t want Jongin to know that this meant to Taemin much more than it did to him.

Jongin sighed and leaned against the mirror – something hat must never be done – with a curled up Taemin in his arms.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You need to give yourself a break. These days especially...”

That was just it, Taemin didn’t need to tell Jongin anything for it to be obvious how bad it was getting. He wouldn’t hold up much longer, but Taemin didn’t care. He’d done the one thing he never wanted to do – he’d grown numb. The only thing keeping him together was the choreography, meeting up with Jongin to practice, spending time with him, dancing with him.

Now that was gone too.

While he was being held like that, Taemin wanted more than anything to just come out and say it, but he couldn’t let Jongin know it was him. So instead of saying it out loud, he closed his eyes and repeated the words ‘I love you’ in his head.

Jongin drove him home. The next couple of days Taemin didn’t even leave his room, he had no strength for it.

Wonshik, Kibum, Jinki and Minho took turns watching over him, but after some time he hardly wanted to see them either.

It was that one conversation he had with Kibum before he’d locked the door and refused to let anyone in.

“You have to promise me something,” Taemin had said.

“First tell me what it is,” Kibum was cautious.

“Don’t ever let Jongin know it was him.”

The sentence hung in the air. Taemin simply didn’t want to drop that kind of guilt on the person he loved. Because in the end, Jongin did love him, only not the same way Taemin loved him.

“I promise,” Kibum said at last.

It was the last conversation they had.

*

It wasn’t painless.

Taemin was woken up by a sharp pain in his chest; eyes snapping open he couldn’t even gasp. His mouth was full of flowers and blood which he choked on now more than ever. The thorns had pierced his lungs at last.

It was somewhat like a dream. In the darkness of his room, his mind was stuck in a state drowsiness, not quite awake but not asleep either. But the pain, that was the one thing that was real.

He didn’t think. There was no room for thoughts in his exhausted and overwhelmed mind.

It stopped eventually, so did his movements and so did his breathing.

And finally, he was free.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it wasn't too obvious that I've never been in love lmao  
> Interactions welcome on tumblr (@vai-should-be-quiet) and instagram (@vai_attempts_art)


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